


Game of Thrones One-Shots

by robinwritesallthethings



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, F/M, Family, Fluff, Loss of Virginity, One-Shot, Reader-Insert, Romance, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-19
Updated: 2017-07-19
Packaged: 2018-12-04 09:23:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11552262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robinwritesallthethings/pseuds/robinwritesallthethings
Summary: A collection of one-shots starring characters fromGame of Thrones.





	Game of Thrones One-Shots

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You confess your dark past to Jon on your wedding night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is explicit and features a female reader.

You sit by the fire, dressed in only your simple shift, your wedding cloak wrapped around your shoulders. You hear the door open and close behind you and turn your head to glance at your new husband.

Jon Stark is quite handsome. You hadn’t believed the rumors until you met him earlier today at the altar. He’s not the tallest man, and he’s lean, but he’s fit. His face is beautiful, and very youthful; you imagine that he looks older with a beard, but he must have shaved for the ceremony. His luscious black curls are likely envied by many women.

He’s been kind to you all day. You hope it isn’t just an act.

You stand and turn to curtsey before him. “Husband,” you murmur demurely. He steps forward, reaching down and taking your hands in his, lifting you back to your feet.

His dark eyes are warm as he speaks. “You don’t have to do that. You’re my wife, not my servant.”

Not an act, then. You finally let yourself relax, stepping closer to him as a chill runs up your spine. He takes a deep breath, circling your waist with his hands, and you realize that he’s shaking. His voice, however, remains steady.

“You’ll get used to the cold,” he promises. “It will just take time.”

“I’m sure you’re right, husband,” you assure him.

“Jon,” he corrects you gently. “Call me Jon.” His shaking intensifies and you reach up to frame his face with your palms.

“You’re trembling, Jon,” you whisper. “And I will not believe that you are merely cold.”

He gives you a small smile. “I suppose it’s not very manly,” he admits, “but I’m nervous. You’re an experienced woman, and I’ve never had a woman at all. I doubt I know how to please you.”

So that rumor is true too.

Not that it bothers you. You’re more distracted by his other revelation. “You’re worried about pleasing me?”

“Well, of course. You’re my wife.” He looks alarmed when he sees tears fill your eyes and pulls you closer, brushing his nose against yours. “Did I say something wrong?” he wonders anxiously.

You shake your head. “No, Jon. You didn’t say anything wrong at all.” You bite your lip. You want so badly to tell him about your past. He’s a good man, obviously, and you’d like to start this marriage right.

“Darling,” he soothes you, “I want you to be honest with me. I know it’s hard, but please. I don’t want any secrets between us.”

It’s the endearment that really breaks you. You step away from him suddenly, turning to face the fire once more, wrapping your arms around your chest to chase away the pain that blooms there. You feel him come up behind you and put his hands on your shoulders tentatively.

You lean back into his touch, reaching over your shoulder and grabbing his hand in yours. “I was a bastard once, you know. My father legitimized me when he had no other children so he could marry me off and make an alliance, much like your father legitimized you when his wife had no sons.” You squeeze his fingers. “I don’t tell you this to cause you pain, Jon,” you apologize.

“You’re not causing me pain,” he swears comfortingly. “Go on.”

You turn in his arms, embracing him roughly, resting your head under his chin. He holds you tightly, kissing your temple.

“My husband wasn’t kind, Jon,” you confess. “We were married for five years, and he was never kind. Not once. Even when our children died.” Your voice is vehemently bitter. “Especially when our children died.”

“I was told about your children,” Jon acknowledges heavily. “I’m sorry. Losing all of them to illness… I can’t even imagine how terrible that must have been.”

Now you actually start to cry. His arms tighten around you as he holds you against his chest, letting you weep.

“I gave birth to three daughters in five years, Jon,” you sob. “All of them were healthy. My husband killed them because they weren’t sons. He smothered them in their cribs. I screamed and fought, but there was nothing I could do. He took my babies from me.”

Jon’s body is rigid with anger. “I had no idea.”

You regain your composure, straightening up and staring at Jon, your eyes rimmed in red. “They were beautiful and perfect, Jon. I wanted them so much. They were mine, and I wanted to keep them safe forever, but I couldn’t protect them from my husband.”

You take a deep breath and finally tell him the truth that you’ve never told anyone. “So I murdered him in his sleep, and no one ever realized.”

Jon looks at you in shock and you sigh resignedly. “I understand if your honor demands that you punish me, Jon, or if you want our marriage annulled.”

“Why would you even risk telling me?” he asks curiously. “I never would have known.”

You reach out and touch his cheek again, surprised when he doesn’t shy away. “I’ve barely known you for a day, Jon, and you’ve been kinder than my husband ever was. You’re a good man, and you deserve to know that I’m not a good woman.”

“None of that now,” Jon declares immediately. “You killed a man who treated you poorly and murdered your children. If I had known, I’d have killed him myself. Then it would have been considered justice.”

He steps forward and slides the heavy cloak from your shoulders, letting it fall to the floor in front of the fire. You notice that his hands are no longer shaking as he puts his fingers in the collar of your shift and starts to slide it down.

“You’re not nervous anymore?” you wonder quietly.

Jon smiles. “I’ve already pleased you, haven’t I?”

You smile back. “You have, Jon.”

He nods. “So help me continue to please you,” he requests, pushing your shift down your arms. He pulls your hands free and smooths the fabric over your hips until it drops, leaving you naked. He swallows carefully as he surveys your body and you find yourself blushing. You were slim when you first married, but three pregnancies in such a short time have made you heavier. Your hips are rounder and your breasts are fuller, which isn’t necessarily bad, but you have no idea what Jon prefers in women.

He may be inexperienced, but every man looks and has fantasies.

He sees that your cheeks are flushed and notices the way you’re biting your lower lip, so he brings the backs of his fingers up and runs them over your cheekbone. “You are extraordinarily beautiful,” he assures you.

“Thank you.” You mirror his motions with your own hand. “So are you.”

It’s his turn to blush. “That’s kind of you to say.” He shifts uncomfortably and you glance down. It’s hard to see because of the dim light in the room and the dark color of his clothes, but he’s definitely straining against them.

You take his hand and guide him to the bed, sitting down on it and positioning him in front of you. He sheds his own cloak and pulls his shirt over his head, toeing off his boots while you begin to work on his pants. He shudders as you tug them off and free his hard cock from their confines.

He gasps as you wrap your hand around him, stroking his length experimentally, his hand reaching out to grip your shoulder so he can steady himself. You make sure to be gentle; you don’t want him to finish too fast. It's your duty to give him children, after all, and for that, he needs to be inside you. Everything else can wait until you’ve conceived.

Despite the nature of the obligation, you’ve always wanted a family. You almost hadn’t survived the death of your daughters. You often wondered why you hadn’t taken your own life, or why you had waited so long to take your husband’s.

But now you have a second chance, and you don’t intend to waste it.

You lean back, slipping underneath the furs that adorn the bed, making sure to leave your breasts uncovered. Jon doesn’t need any coaxing to follow; when he’s close enough, you wrap your arms around his shoulders and pull him on top of you, moaning as his throbbing shaft presses into your soft thigh.

Jon’s body is taut over yours; you can tell that his need is urgent. He leans down, pressing his lips to your ear. “I don’t know what to… I don’t know where to…” He groans in frustration and rocks his hips against yours eagerly. “I don’t want to disappoint you.”

“Shh,” you soothe him. You know how to please a man; though your husband wasn’t concerned with your pleasure at all, he was concerned with his. You’re flattered that Jon is worried about you, but you’re content to take care of him first and let the rest happen later.

“It’s all right, Jon. Here.” You reach between your bodies and grasp him in your hand, slicking the fluid leaking from him all over his cock before guiding it to your entrance. You’re wet too; thankfully, arousal has never been a problem for you, so you don’t need a lot of foreplay. Jon gasps sharply when you reach up and grasp his hips so you can start pushing him into you.

“That’s it, Jon,” you encourage him. “Just do what feels good for you.”

“What about you?” He grits his teeth, bracing his hands against the bed, unable to resist sinking all the way into your tight passage. Once there, he starts to move. He’s erratic, but enthusiastic.

You wrap your legs around his and run your hands through his hair. “Don’t worry about me right now,” you tell him.

“I want to,” he insists. “Please.” He keeps thrusting, burying his face in your neck to muffle the noises he’s making, and you know he’s not going to last much longer.

You’ve spent enough nights alone in your bed to know what you need. You take Jon’s hand and place it on the sensitive nub at the apex of your thighs, showing him the right speed and perfect amount of pressure to use to touch you.

He nods against your skin, kissing your jawline. As he rubs you, your breathing gets heavier and your legs creep up further, wrapping around his waist. Suddenly, he finds a rhythm and you cry out as he discovers a spot inside you that’s never been touched before. Your hands fly to his hips, squeezing and urging him to move faster. “Oh, Jon, right there, please!” you beg, clenching around him.

His fingers fondle you as your cries get louder and louder. “Oh, Jon, Jon, Jon!” You wail loudly as you start to spasm around him, your back arching so you can take him deeper. He thrusts one more time and holds himself there as he finishes, spilling his seed deep inside you, bathing your insides in warmth.

Jon shudders, falling heavily on top of you, his hips still working gently. You wrap your arms around him, holding him tightly and turning your head to give him a soft kiss.

At first, he just lets himself be kissed; then, as he calms down, he cups your cheek in his hand, kissing you back excitedly and turning over so that you’re resting against his side. “That was better than I ever thought it would be,” he confesses.

“For me as well,” you admit, leaning your head against his shoulder and sighing contentedly.

****

Later that night, you startle awake, your heart pounding in your chest. It takes you a moment to remember that you’re in your new home, in bed beside your new husband. You lean back against the pillows, curving your hands protectively around your belly. You’re very aware that you could already be carrying Jon’s child, and in spite of how good things have been between you so far, you’re frightened.

You take a deep breath and promise yourself that nothing will happen to the babies you have with him.

You jump just a little as his warm hand covers yours where they’re resting on your middle, and you turn your head, gasping softly as he kisses you sweetly and wraps his free arm around your shoulders.

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” he apologizes, rubbing his nose against your skin.

“It’s all right. I just thought I was back there for a moment.”

His hand tightens. “You don’t ever have to go back there again,” he promises. “I will never hurt you or our children. I don’t care if we have a hundred girls.”

You laugh lightly. “A hundred?”

He smiles, lowering his head, starting to nuzzle and kiss your breasts. You sigh, happily giving in to him.

“Let’s start with one,” he suggests.

****

**Nine Months Later**

You wake slowly, comfortably wrapped in warm furs. You’re sore, and still tired, but you don’t mind.

Jon is sitting by the fire, turned towards the bed so he can keep an eye on you. Because of the heavy snows, the midwife was stuck in the village, so he delivered your daughter himself with your help. All of your births have been easy and simple; it’s ironic, considering your first marriage, but you appear to be destined for having multiple children.

Over the past months, you’ve fallen completely in love with Jon, and he’s fallen completely in love with you. He’s the kindest, sweetest man you’ve ever known, but he’s also strong and brave. You know how lucky you are that you were promised to him, and you remind him every day.

He hasn’t noticed that you’re awake yet. He’s gazing down at your daughter, who is asleep in his arms, and he’s clearly already madly in love with her too. He’s rocking her gently, cooing at her and telling her how beautiful she is.

His eyes flick back to you and his smile widens. You smile back at him, hugging the pillow, content to just watch your new family for the moment.

“She has my hair,” he points out giddily, nodding at her full head of black curls.

“I noticed,” you tease him softly.

He stands, bringing her over to you as you sit up and placing her in your arms. She fusses for a moment as you pull your shift aside, giving her access to your breast. Once she latches on, she calms down, snuggling against you and looking up at you.

“She has your eyes, though,” Jon murmurs, tucking you into his side, squeezing your shoulder and touching her little cheek reverently.

You start to cry, not bothering to try to stop yourself, letting Jon wipe away your tears. “Thank you, Jon. For everything. I never thought I would be happy.”

“If I have my way, we’ll all be happy forever,” Jon vows. “I love you. Both of you.”

“I love both of you too, Jon.”


End file.
